Being Lost Gets You Nowhere
by Panugoeth
Summary: The Singer and the Miko, two lost souls hoping to find clarity meet on foreign soil only to find that in times when the human soul needs a harbor they find that it can only be found in one another.
1. Default Chapter

disclaimer: Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon belongs to Naoko Takeuchi and TOEI.

before you read: some references/hints to the birth of Crystal Tokyo may be littered here and there. Post-PGSM storyline.

**Prolouge: Looking At Venus**

The airport crowd was bustling and Minako wondered why everybody gathered round the airports on Saturday, but all that was to her were just thoughts to get rid of the memories of the few glorious weeks in New York, but she would never come here again, not if she didn't want to trip up on old memories. The city, she felt had her everywhere now, it felt like every place she had visited would snag a piece of her soul and leave itself there.

Minako wistfully took another glance through the windows of the Airport and into New York. New York was different in broad daylight the glow that it gave off dulled in the sun, and it was only until the sun went down did New York show it's underbelly, a clash of nightclubs and fancy restaurants mixed with the fast-food joints, and the homelyand expensive hotels clashing with the Holiday Inns. She couldn't let this memory...the memories that were given to her go to waste. Even if most of the time she was doing ridiculous commmercials for Vigil a stimulant for women, and bickering with Zoicite, but inbetween doing those things and feeling like she was on the outside looking into the New York people's everyday lives; she had found a kindred spirit. One in which she could share her troubles with but that person...was destined for greater things in life than to be her shoulder to cry on.

She was about to walk away from the airline schedule board, but the clack of running heels stopped her, and she knew immediately who it was before the person reached her. Minako took a chance and turned around to be greeted with a breathless Rei panting with a small sheen of sweat on her brow. Rei looked gorgeous in her black business suit complete with bullet black skirt and heels looking aesthetically pleasing. Minako had never seen Rei with her business suit on before and this small consolation on the day she was to leave lifted her spirits a little, but then the fast approach of time caught up with her, time had caught up to them.

All the nights of quiet conversations and grave humor were gone, and now replaced by the hubbub of airport traffic and the intercom announcements, but it didn't matter. Minako could make-believe all that was muted noise, not real, nothing was real but Rei at this moment. The brush and pushing of people hurrying with their passports to get to their flight on time didn't register in Minako's mind as significant, she knew Zoicite was watching this...she didn't give a damn either. There was nothing wrong with saying goodbye, amd maybe cheat away a few moments of what was left, but that was all...Minako wanted Rei to speak to fill the void of silence with her voice and strength.

"I came to say goodbye," Rei breathed her bangs already curling from the sweat that gathered around her brow.

There's a strange crackling sound in the distance as if the sky is ripping right above her, and the ceiling is splintering apart even as they stand and speak, and Minako let's the hum of the airplanes do the screaming for her.

"Well you're about five minutes late on that que," Minako fakes a laugh and pretends like it's any old thing, she knows Rei hates it when she brushes things off like that, and to think of it... she hates what she does also-her habit of being flippant- but it's all that she knows.

Many were the hours that Minako had thought out this farewell, would it be romantic, or would it be sorrowful and sad to know they would never be any closer? Now that they are here...it is neither. This scene neither plays on her heart strings or woos her vividly into an obstructured cantabile of emotion. It just is what it is.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye then," Rei says uncomfortable with her own voice and how it sounds so flat out in the open air. She wishes she had more control over her voice, but her emotions she kept stifled, and she feels herself becoming hot and pink from overexertion.

To say that she was surprised by Rei's abrupt going away speech was to lie, Minako hadn't expected Rei to do anything but show up, and now they had to go about saying goodbye. All she can do is nod at Rei, and be on her way out of New York, and back to the husband that awaits her. So Minako did all she could in a short amount of time to give the palm of Rei's hand a small kiss before she went off.

Once she hits native soil she'd be gone from Rei...and those quiet moments of unspoken loudness will just be background furniture in the house of Minako's mind, and yet there is always hope isn't there? A hope for something new even though nothing can be rightfully replaced, but Rei ignores the disappointment and the brief stinging of tears causing her vision to distort Minako's image and when her eyes have cleared Minako is gone.


	2. On Any Rainy Day

**Chapter 1: On Any Rainy Day**

_ The old familiar gaggle, she remembered it well, a few curious friends and an address, and mischief commenced. Except the curious gaggle of friends was more like two, and she knew the person who she was visiting, it had taken some time, but her curiosity had gotten the better of her, and she was now down to her nose in the Yellow Pages. Now that her commercial had aired she doubted that the miko had any misinformation that she wasn't in town. It felt strange to have your business announced to the world, for people to know who you are without you having met them-like on the subway when several people recognized her as the "Vigil" commercial girl-, and of course them knowing where you are without you even giving the information out. She felt now a responsibility to know where the miko was at in life, how she was, and how she was handling the city. The nervousness she had felt that night in the bar had been replaced by a light-headed giddyness, an excitement to get to know the miko's life better, and the absence of the miko's presence for a year all weighed down on her increasing urgency to find the miko. A gentle hunger shown in the Singer's eyes as she claimed the information that she had sought out for. Now all that was needed was a trip to the subway station, a little gift to come with her presence, and of course the miko's permission to enter her abode._

_ The Singer drew puffs of air into her lungs as she stared at the faded number on the apartment door wondering if the miko really was living here, or if maybe she was being fooled by her own gullibility, by her belief that the miko would want to even see her face after a year of estrangement, but no one ever moved on without trying so the Singer knocked confidently on the door and was surprised as the door swung open to reveal who it was that she had sought for. The miko hadn't changed at all except for the age added on that the Singer could see in the miko's eyes. In the miko's gaze the Singer was held suspended in the darkness of her eyes, and like a candle her figure swayed in the reflection the miko's iris portrayed, it seemed like the Singer was caught between words, and so was the miko also who stared as if not seeing, as if a year had blinded her from the friend that now stood shivering slightly from the cold on her doorstep. _

_Politeness soons give way into the miko's flesh as she notices the small tremors growing through the Singer's body, and the miko pulls the Singer into her cool apartment, it isn't a huge contrast between the open air and her home, but it is warm enough for the Singer to cast aside her jacket and fold it neatly into her arms. At once the miko hurries to clean her place up trying to shuffle through the disarray of paper and trash that has cluttered the apartment, but the miko cannot discern which is garbage and which is needed, but the Singer herself who has been known for grace, and having dined at the most luxurious places known to man doesn't mind the cluttered miko's space, and directs her to sit. The miko remembers that she herself is the host, but can't bring herself to stand and get tea for the Singer, but gently grasps her own cup of coffee in her hands to try to still their trembling. Their eyes meet in an unconscious connection and they stare drinking in each other's image, they try to see which part of themselves have changed, and which has remained the same. Not a word has been spoken between the two it has just been the charged air going on between them as they reaffirm their friendship, and try to find the familiar lines they had once walked upon, and try -at least until they're sure that they actually know each other- to ignore the new lives they both have led up to now. _

_"It's been a while hasn't it?" the Singer speaks first the dull lighting giving the miko an unearthy glow as if everything in this room had a life of its own and would spring to life if she was not in the room. _

_"Yes, it has. You've...changed," the miko stammers ashamed of the way she is acting around the Singer. _

_"Is that all you have to say? You are a woman of few words then...you've probably heard all of the rumors about yourself," the Singer teases the miko in her usual way to get rid of the grating politeness that they have around them as if they were strangers meeting for the first time. _

_"I've learned to ignore them usually the rumors disappear if I don't respond to them," the miko answers her eyes regaining a little bit of warmth instead of the indifference and disbelief that showed in her eyes moments ago. _

_"So it is true with tabloids also," the Singer agrees feeling her heart jump in joy at being able to find a friend in this starkly vast city. _

_The miko laughs derisively almost sounding as desperate as the Singer and she says with the slightest taint of envy in her voice, "Your life is run better than mine, I think." _

_"It's no better but it's no worse either. My music isn't as widely popular as it has been, and I've come here to endorse feminine products, and get paid over millions to do it," the Singer shares a short summary of how her life has been sparing the miko various details that doesn't sit well with her. _

_"That's good, no one really appreciates good music, until the singer has died," the miko replies keeping up with the idle conversation. _

_"Funny you should say that, I've been eyeing the letter opener on my desk for days," the Singer jokes which is not all too lost on the miko as she laughs showing the Singer her teeth and genuine joy as their voices joins together making their ears slightly buzz from the richness in tone of their native language, a language that both had missed dearly. _

_"No, that won't do you any good, it's got to be dramatic for it to work. Nobody cares if you stab yourself with a letter opener, it's either Elvis Presley's way, or else you're just going to have to die like Marilyn Monroe did." _

_"And how did she die?" the Singer asks still the same tone of teasing in her voice. _

_"In the nude," the miko replied a devlish glint evident in her eyes as the Singer's cheeks reddened a little at the joke. _

_The Singer can't remember laughing so hard before and doing it so with such ease when with the miko as the Singer eases up and gets comfortable in the miko's home as they barter stories and gossip about their other senshi friends. They talk about the good old days like all the grown men and women all see it as, maybe it's because they miss the closeness everyone had with each other back then, and when they were finally let loose out in the world they realized that that's what the good old days were...a controlled reality where you experienced and experimented on where your life should go._

_The Singer is staring up at the miko's cracked ceiling as they lay on the floor exhausted from the day's talk but neither wanting to stop talking. It was a thirst for knowledge of each other as they shared slight intimate details of their life that they had never been able to fully tell each other, and the bridged gap between estrangement and friendship had disappered as now they seemed to talk like old friends more than strangers, this change had happened in the course of just a few hours as the Singer spied the waning moon outside the miko's window. _

_"So..." the miko's feminine and yet deep, and rich voice interrupted the Singer's thoughts, "what else are you doing in New York other than the commercial?" _

_"Well...for one thing hiding from my marriage, catching up on an old friend, and helping Zoicite scheme his way into an American Record Deal, you?" the Singer replied smirking slightly in the darkness at the silliness of her plight. _

_The miko giggled slightly in the enshrouding black that is sneaking up on their eyes. The miko is surprised at the Singer's blunt honesty about her own life, and yet the miko has only fed tidbits to the Singer about her life outside her apartment, and for this the miko decides to indulge the Singer, a consolation for the miko thinks that she knows too much about the Singer's marriage. _

_"I'm working the politics field, weird, but it happened. I always knew my powers were needed and that somehow I'd end up getting sucked in a profession that fell along the lines of my father's. Now I kind of pity him...playing politics all day, it must be hard not knowing who to impress, who to please, and who to not give a damn about," the miko confesses laughing slightly to get rid of the grave air that seemed to overtake their ecstatic mood. _

_"I could imagine you doing that," the Singer adds softly as her hands whisper across her hair putting strands of her bangs back into place. _

_"I could imagine you getting married too, having a nice house, and a husband who cares for you," the miko compliments the Singer. _

_The Singer contemplates the mood now, it's not a clenching kind of calm that has taken them, but a more of a contentful calm where all questions have been asked and answered so that the thoughts in her head cease to exist, and every worry evaporates. It's a feeling of freedom that goes deeper than bones, and this she thinks is what the miko must feel whenever she throws herself into whatever task she thought was worthwhile, a feeling of control. The Singer for now wanted to pretend like she had control also, wanted to feel it and believe it, it was so easy to reach out and grasp the miko's slender fingers and press them to her lips, and it was easier than she thought to make like that moment a small confession on her part nothing more than instinct. It was. It was what she felt deep inside. _

They meet again at a little Italian Cafe where candles are always lit even in the day time, and the red color for romance can be present, but they are an odd couple to sit in the farthest corner of the balcony, especially when it is this cold and the weather shows early signs of sprinkling. The waiter gives them a look of curiosity but Minako quickly sends him away with their orders leaving them alone for the time being. Everyone else is inside enjoying their warm soups and ventilated heating system. Rei finds it odd that Minako chooses this exact time to order an ice cream sundae-talk about your brain freeze- and for Minako to invite her out to a Cafe nonetheless in the mid-afternoon. It's been two days since they had last seen each other and basked in each other's presence, and already it seems like the scene that took place in the Pizzeria was two years ago. Rei has ordered the clam chowder wise enough not to follow suit to Minako's odd taste. Soon the waiter comes, his arms full with their orders, and with finesse scoops the plates off of his tray and deftly slides them over the tabletop, quietly placing the bill beside Minako's elbow.

"Rainy days are always good for ice cream," Minako sighs wistfully as she takes a scoop.

"If you don't mind the brain freeze, that is," Rei adds sprinkling pepper on her chowder.

"I never minded that either," Minako laughs and she is not sure why she is laughing at all. Rei hasn't particularly been trying to be funny and yet she laughs, and thinks that she enjoys this, but really this is quite joyless...to not be closer, but Minako knows her restrictions, her do not's and want not's; she knows them well.

"My husband would say that lots of times when he saw me eating ice cream on a rainy day. I've gotten so used to that, that hearing it from you is quite strange, since I thought you were just as odd," Minako explains as Rei looks up at her face and she wishes she could stop smiling to make this a more serious affair.

"Sounds like you and your husband have a great time," Rei spoke slowly the spoon stilled itself before her lips as she talked even her apetite could wait for Minako.

"He would never joined me though, thought it was crazy, insane, and childish. He's a saint really, he doesn't need me to take care of the house or anything, I could just be there, and not talk at all, and he'd be okay with it," she says not noticing that Rei has stopped eating and was now concentrating solely on her.

"You shouldn't be hiding from that...you married a good guy," the answer is exactly what Minako had thought it would be and inspite of herself her lips crinkled into the usual smirk.

"Yeah, Zoisite thinks I'm a snob too," she replies flippantly.

Minako is paying no heed to what Rei is feeling right now as Rei looks on at Minako in disbelief and wonder. Beths' words been run through her mind for hours on end, and still, she can't see what it is to be afraid of, Rei Hino doesn't feel afraid of anything right now.

"Will you stop that?" Rei retorts almost bending the spoon she is holding in half as the Singer watches her with attentive eyes. "Stop twisting my words around. You keep on saying that I mean one thing when I really don't mean it that way."

_"Then what do you mean by it?" _

Rei is caught off-guard by this innocent question as she feels the sweat starting to form on her brow as she opens and shuts her mouth in an attempt for answers. What did she mean by trying to be Minako's marriage counselor? It felt like she was coaching Minako on how to be a wife, and that's not what she wanted to do, if Minako didn't feel right about her marriage then she shouldn't deny it or try and hide it. Suddenly, Rei feels afraid as if this feeling had always been lurking under the surface, and had never truly broken through, but now Rei can feel it making her hands clammy, her throat dry, and most of all make her heart beat out of time.

"You, _we _don't have to go there if you don't want to," Minako softly comforts the distressed miko and Rei's shoulders finally revert to a more relaxed position but Rei is still in questioning.

The miko is curious, and she wants that knowledge for herself to at least get a glimpse of where if she lets free of restraints how far it will go, and what could be accomplished, or destroyed. It's a tentative step into the unknown not fully delving into it, but merely testing the waters, and Rei feels that it wouldn't do much if she just tested the waters. She was merely getting a taste, she was not entangling herself in Minako's new life, she wished to be just a small part of it at the very least.

So, without a word Rei reached forward and tentatively took Minako's hand in her own letting the back of Minako's hand rest on her palm. The lines in Minako's palm were thin, almost invisible if you didn't look closely, and Rei took the time to study each of the digits tracing her own fingers over Minako's slender ones, and Rei is taken back to the night where Minako had so easily kissed her fingers how simple and slight that action was that Rei had forgotten all about it until now. She turns over Minako's hand and notes that there is not even a slight resistance from Minako to her actions, and she leads the hand up to her lips but doesn't make contact yet, she wants to, but she's not sure if that's testing the waters anymore.

Minako feels Rei's breath move closer to her flesh and she waits, she doesn't anticipate, she just waits calmly for Rei to make her choice of whether to move forward, or to stop.

Rei dropped Minako's hand. The both of them released the breath of air they had been holding, and looked at each other the same way they had looked at each the first night, slight questioning indifference, but still that warm fondness one would get from an old friend. Rei had never noticed Minako's wedding ring, and it was only until her lips had grazed Minako's knuckle that she saw the ring, and she had been hit by an alarming sense of moral wrong. They couldn't do this. The inhibitions had returned again even stronger than before and she had been so close to drowning that time, how many times can one person drown, and never die away into the current?


	3. Indiscretion

**Chapter 2: Indiscretion**

_The old man was feeding the pigeons. With small bits of bread crumbs in his hands he sprinkled the crumbs all over the pavement as he chuckled and watched the pigeons peck over the few morsels of bread. Craning their necks they swooped at whatever bit they could see that resembled food, and snatched and stole from their own, and the old man continued to toss bread crumbs until he had literally swarms of pigeons around him. _

_She watched this with gentle fondness as the pigeons cooed softly to the man, all the while he fed them until they trusted him completely and were content to dawdle around, no longer stiffening their feathers at his slightest movement. She sat alone on a bench adjacent from him, and her hands felt cold against the sides of her pockets from the biting cold that now invaded her skin, but she waited. Soon enough though, the man ran out of bread crumbs to feed them out of his lunch and with that the pigeons lost interest and idly, blankly looked at each other and cooed, then left. _

_Minako smiled a smile of hers she used from time to time akin to that of a smirk, and a small crease in her cheek could be seen as she looked up above the old man's head and saw the holocaust, a golden arch over the man's head advertising the smell of artificial food, and hamburger patties. _

Nothing could describe the complete feeling of unadulterated bliss when every cell on your body was nurtured and embraced in warmth and contentment, and the slow easy heat that washed over your body when you take the first dip into the foamy bathtub, and like a lover's breath the water slowly massages away your stress, the dirt, and the grime allowing you to sink further away into nirvana.

Minako hears muted noise as she submerges her head in water and her eyes close on contact with liquid. Everything was silent underwater, Minako found it peculiar and strange when all sound was stilled, and all you could see was blurred. Muted noise echoed through the water depths to Minako's ears from the outside world, she heard a familiar tune..."_these feelings are a part of life...I'm running...I wanna be with you..." _Her head broke through the surface of the water as she gasped for air and rubbed her burning eyes when they met contact with air. It always burned her eyes when she came to surface, and coughing slightly she reached for her cell phone sitting patiently on the marble floor next to the tub, splashing slightly she flipped open the cell phone.

"Hello?" Minako sighed into the phone as static crackled in her ear.

"_Hey." _it was him again.

"How have you been doing?" Minako asked as she leaned against the side of the bathtub for support.

"_It's okay...I saw you on the news today. You look pretty," _he answered her in the same way he answered her all the time, it didn't bother Minako very much to be reminded that he said the same thing, everday. _"I was wondering why you didn't pick up your phone, it must be busy in New York all the interviews, and sights to see." _

Minako hopes he cannot hear the splashing of water in the background when she shifts and tries to formulate her sentences. She wonders where she should manipulate the conversation, she wonders where she should trim the edges of her experiences, and she wonders where she'll have tell half-truths.

"I don't get to see many sights, but I am around a friend here, and Zoisite like always is a pain in the rear end. He's been taking care of me like you asked him to."

_"I found a nice place by Shibuya in Saitama, the moving men said they could finish with the rennovation of the house, but I want to check with you to see if it's okay to"_

"I've got to go," Minako whispered into the phone, and noticed the long pause when she said that for him to answer and she felt a splash of guilt flare in her chest and she had to breathe in deep the hazy herbal perfumated air around her and swallowed down the lump in her throat.

_"Oh..okay. What do you want me to do about the house?" _

"Just..." she can't find the solution, she had expected him to say goodbye. "Just do whatever you want to do. Everything's just fine with me."

_"I could reschedule so we could do it together..." _

"No. It's all right," Minako refused the splash of regret fading from her subconsciousness.

"_But" _

"Only if you want to, if you feel you need to, other than that it'll be fine when I get back home, kay?" she interrupted him again.

At once Minako knew she had said something wrong as there was another lengthy pause between, and time seemed to speed up to her as her hot bath was now cold, and her contentment now replaced by stress.

"_Well...bye." _and the line went dead as the flat tone was all that Minako heard now and across Minako's delicate features was a curiosity of what to expect, what to do now?

Gently placing the cell phone back into its rightful place Minako decided to settle back into her delayed bath even now as the water was only lukewarm Minako was determined to get what she could out of it.

Zoisite stared at the wafting steam coming from bathroom door left slightly ajar as his hands tapped the barrel of ink on his pen as his hands stilled across the sheet of white albeit empty paper. He moved his pen aside just as a drop of ink was about to fall and blemish his composition. His thoughts were coarse against his music as he tried to still the thoughts that were swirling in his mind right now, and deciding, yes, it was time for a talk with Minako he clipped the pen gently to his starch shirt pocket and without the slightest hint of hesitation entered the steamy bathroom without caution. Minako was sitting submerged to her neck in foamy bath water, but the steam that had once wafted about the bathroom had cleared, she seemed cold now instead of warm.

"So you've given up your infatuation with hot baths and scalding showers?" Zoisite asked catching Minako's attention as she surprised made a move as to grab a towel but seeing that it was Zoisite settled back into the bathtub.

"The water went cold while I was on the phone," she replied as she twisted a strand of wet hair in her fingers and eyed Zoisite to make sure that he stood in the farthest corner of the bathroom.

"Ah...your husband not interesting enough for you? My assumption was correct he_ is _quite a wallflower personality-wise," Zoisite replied with the same biting tone a smirk undisguised on his features.

"For such a delicate looking man you seem to spare no one your tongue," the Singer shot back laying her head back against the marble support of the bathtub resting her eyes.

Zoisite idly toyed with the fuzzy orange towel that Minako always used, and his smirk only widened at how predictable Minako really was, but her effort was applauded for such a strong woman she really didn't know when to back down. He could always read Minako like a book, but sometimes she occasionally did something that raised his eyebrows a few centimeters, but comparing the Minako of now it seemed very likely he'd be questioning his assumptions just yet.

"Marital pains need to be taken out on someone? I'm not to blame if your marriage is failing, it seems your husband thinks it's going along quite well, maybe it's just you...dear," Zoisite sipped his hourly victory in triumph as Minako was constricted to just sitting in the tub and having to play Zoisite's games which he knew highly displeased her.

"Well, maybe I'm always supposed to feel this way, don't you think?" Minako replied softly the harsh edge gone from her voice.

Upon hearing Minako's retreat Zoisite straightened up as he dropped the foot he was leaning against the wall and he stared at Minako, her pallid form, her thin hair, and mostly her eyes which were drawn to the world outside the window. He found Minako in a position similar like that in her room staring listlessly at morning, evening, and midnight traffic, never sleeping, but just looking at New York with a wide-eyed gentle hunger of curiosity and fear intermixed with each other. Sometimes he caught her listlessly staring at nothing outside her window, and studying the faces of the American people, and her face would seem strange compared to those people, they seemed more lively than Minako, but the spell would soon be broken when she sensed his presence and time for Minako would start moving again.

"Isn't that something to see..." Zoisite whispered in a mixture of awe and sadness. "The Goddess of Love is gone."

"What?" Minako asked alarmed her eyes snapping from their position.

"The Goddess is gone," Zoisite replied his smile returning but faltering slightly on his pale face.

Zoisite only showed this one moment alone in worry, but his outsides did not reflect his insides as he watched Minako give him the quizzical look of questioning, but he neither elaborated the statement or built on it as he leaned back once again and was in the position of an observer.

"You're toying with me again aren't you, Zoisite?" Minako asked icily her warmth toward Zoisite now a mere flickering spark.

"Whatever you want to take it as, I don't think I could change your mind about it either way, what do you think I'm doing?" Zoisite replied just as cold.

"If you've come here to be instigating you're wasting your time," the Singer replied not satisfied with Zoisite's easy transition into accepting her anger.

"I've been mocking you for the last few minutes already and you've only noticed that now?" Zoisite answered feigning disbelief as he cocked a hand on his hip and smirked at her with ease.

"Get out," Minako snapped not having enough patience within her to put up with Zoisite's taunts anymore especially when his sarcastic wit refused to curb.

So the Singer had grown a backbone somewhat on her, Zoisite thought as he licked his dry lips, and cocked his chin at the Singer as if in challenge, and with as much spite and venom as he could muster-he was not one to just take Minako's game of holding people away lying down-answered her. "So you're spiraling back down into that hole in which you hide."

"I'm not hiding," the Singer retorted her eyes flashing slightly with a brief look of hurt, but the moment was over before Zoisite could exploit the singer's show of weakness, the game wasn't fun at all if he was the only one playing.

"It is you who is pursuing the matter. You who is...romping around with another woman in fact, and it is you who is on the verge of infidelity," Zoisite replied his voice lowering as if he was telling Minako a secret.

"Why do you have to label it that way Zoisite? To fit into the square must you always be so crude and malevolent with my intentions? It's not an affair," she retorts in defense and she can't see why Zoisite perceives her intentions to Rei impure, that she would be as unjust to her husband as taking it upon herself to look for a shoulder to cry on, to look for someone to physically comfort her. "It's not what you think."

"What is it that I'm thinking of, but a way that you and your miko comfort each other that your husband cannot do for you, is that what you do with her? It's fine by me if you want to jump the fence it all depends on who you want to hurt in the end after all," Zoisite shrugged his gaze causing Minako to falter a bit in her reply.

"You don't trust my decisions, Zoisite?"

"I think you've firmly established by now that you can't be trusted at all if you quite remember not taking the good advice of your dear miko when you were on the verge of death and refused to take a chance," another ice-cold prick of accusation entered into the Singer's reverie as Zoisite's hand got used to the feel of the doorknob in his palm.

Minako cannot remember a time where she has felt so helpless against a situation she is in control of.

"Well then, I'm sorry Zoisite, it looks like your good counsel has come many years too late," she replies sharply letting all that is on her chest off.

Zoisite looks at her as if studying her, taking notes on how she is right now, and how she will be a few years from now. His eyes hold a strange light, and his milky white face seemed like a part of the room now to Minako as if everything in this hotel room had eyes that watched her, and waited. Waiting for what? The silence was clenching as Zoisite refused to budge, and the cool air could be felt over her exposed skin, and she shuddered from the air or something else she didn't know. Minako had never disappointed Zoisite before, she had surprised him, and impressed him with her music and her strength, but now she got the heavy feeling of something gone awry as Zoisite folded his arms across his chest and gazed at her. He held no accusation in his eyes or even anger at her rebuttal of his good will. She hoped that he would get angry at her at least, just to make things feel a little like yesterday, but no words came. It felt like she had to ask Zoisite for permission to speak but she reached forward and grabbed the towel from its stand and started drying her hair in the tub.

Finally, what seemed like hours of just the sound of water droplets hitting her arms, shoulders, and marble floors Zoisite unfolded his arms and resigned.

"It always has."

And with the click of the door Zoisite was gone leaving Minako alone in the small bathroom to finish her necessities and stew in her guilt.


	4. Ripples

**Chapter 3: Ripples**

_September air is freezing their cheeks as they go out for a small stroll at 2 in the morning. They had wasted the night talking until they noticed the small slivers of snowfall happening outside the window, and now the Singer is accompanying her miko along a stroll past dark sidewalks, and closed shopping centers. It's a strange thing for a place so lively to be so dark and foreboding when the lights are off ,and the Singer clings to the miko slightly as they walk past an alleyway, and only releases her when they are well past it. The miko chuckles at the slightest hint of fear in the Singer's eyes, but quiets as the Singer frowns at her for laughing, and they walk from then on in silence. _

_Snow is frosting the Singer's hair with white, and the damp in her hair can be seen as the snow melts to make rivulets of water droplets cascade from the ends of the Singer's wet locks. The miko can't help but let her hand free of it's captivity in the depths of her pocket and have the hand tuck back loose strands of hair from the Singer's cupid like face. The move both serves to shock and awe the Singer as she feels the tenderness in the brush of the miko's callused digits across her cheek. _

_"You look prettier without your hair in your face," the miko confesses shyly as the Singer looks at her in confusion, and thankfully enough, the Singer accepts the explanation._

_They stop under an overpass under the dim light of a lone streetlamp and watch snowflakes fall to the surface of the lake's water causing ripples to form and disappear as the ripples spread out. The Singer leans agains the wall of the overpass, watching as snowflakes catch on her eyelashes, afraid to blink for if she did then the snowflakes would fall to the gravel. This reminds her of the time she tried to taste snow to see if it was anything like ice cream, and she had discovered in dismay that it was in actuality quite tasteless, and that one snowflake was not enough to for any taste at all. The night air is chilly, but it feels fresh when the Singer breathes it into her lungs, no trace of cigarettes in the air to be seen. A shaky breath is let out as the Singer leans her head against the silent miko's shoulder her hair settling like a blanket across the miko's arm which is clothed in a starch gray material. The miko's overcoat is scratchy as the Singer rubs her cheek gently against it as her nose catches the scent of vanilla in the wind and a whisper of lavender scented shampoo. So this is what peace feels like..._

_The miko snakes her hand down to the Singers' and warms them slightly with hers as the river steadily gains depth as the snowfall increases around them. The miko is used to the cold, since she had to wear her priestess garb in the middle of many winters, but the Singer is shivering slightly as she presses unconsciously closer to the miko. Their breaths are becoming more visible as they are unaware that they are even breathing, the both of them not caring if air actually went in and out of their nostrils, it was a time for when the mind could forget and sink further into white nothingness. It's in these strange snowfalls that moments are made seperating how you feel, and how things are taken in light of, under the lazy swirls that the wind is making at your feet with snowflakes strange revelations start coming to. _

_The Singer has not removed her head from the miko's shoulder seemingly now connected to it as not even the slightest of noises can be heard. From afar, they look like two young lovers enjoying a moment in time where they can be alone without the outside world barging in. _

Zoisite drew in a small breath as the door to the hotel room unlocked revealing Minako in her own usual fashion of baseball cap and shades. Really, they were in another country and yet the Singer refused to dispose of her usual habit of caution, but it wasn't his problem to meddle in. He was specifically told by her husband to take care of her. Anything else on the agenda that didn't fall into that category Zoisite brushed it off. His pen stilled across his page again as he surveyed the notes and found them unsatisfactory and he crumpled it up. The noise brought Minako's attention to Zoisite and they met eyes in a silent greeting.

"I've never known you to waste paper in such a frugal manner of distaste," the Singer said cockily as she regarded Zoisite with a slanted look almost as if challenging him, but the Piano Man refused to rise to it, and instead settled on seething in his chair at the blank piece of paper in front of him newly arrived.

"It seems that your little silent epiphany is stifling my composing prowess," Zoisite sneered content to vent his frustrations out on the Singer.

Minako has never asked for Zoisite's counsel, and yet he seemed to give it to her at the most inopportune moments to just throw her off, or instigate her. Zoisite has always cared for the Singer, but when she chose marriage over the career, she got the feeling that he viewed her as more of a traitor now. She can't help what others feel about her choice of path, she can only accept their range of emotions and feeling of betrayal at her bold and surreprious move, but that alone hadn't been enough to deter her.

"I have never forced you to put up with me Zoisite," the Singer snaps back feeling oddly apathetic at the way he is holding her off on arms length and attacking her the way he is now.

"_Someone_ must keep you on the true and straight path before you manage to bumble it up again, before it was your miko that managed to save your soul, now it is I that is here and not her. Marriage is a wonderful thing, companionship, someone there for you when you get home other than that stuffed cat, isn't it?" Zoisite replied saucily as he started scribbling furiously on his notepad as he watched Minako from the corner of his eye.

"It is whatever you want it to be, as you wish," Minako replied dutifully as she dipped her head low inclining his composition and smirking slightly at the shaky notes sloppily scrawled over the page.

He is slow in his reply, but that is just for the anticipation that he loves seeing on people's faces, and the awe and surprise that comes when the first note is struck. He has never objected to Minako's marriage, and he has never thought of her any less or more now that she is married, but he does know that the Singer posesses a logic far more impulsive than the miko's, and with the right leading hand the Singer may discover why she is dissatisfied.

"I think of you far wiser than that to dive into that sort of foray, but odd things do happen when a mind and heart loses its way, but it's all up to you where you want your life to go. The more you know about yourself the less you find yourself bothered," Zoisite replied applying his knowledge of human pyschological thought and society to Minako's situation at hand. "You really are quite a child out in the world, _Venus_. Such as was a year ago when you threw yourself fitfully into love like a child for her candy, and now that, that sweet and cloying candy has pleased you long enough now, you find your apetite ruined. Never...steal candy from the unattended jar, Venus."

It's like Zoisite has put a cloth over her eyes as Minako sinks back into herself and feels her heart folding up on itself. He talks in riddles, but he also conveyed truth what was she afraid of? Nothing.

"I have not stolen anything but merely happiness. You don't know what love is Zoisite," the Singer fires back her voice trembling slightly but there is an obvious tone of defiance in her voice that brings Zoisite away from his music.

"No, to put the blame on the right person, I must say that _you_ don't know what love is," Zoisite answered her and swiveled around once again to immerse himself in composing, but Minako was stunned out of silence.

"I may be be foolish in the way I conduct my soul searching, if you can call it that, and I might fair less than you have at such a thing, but at least I do know what love is," Minako hisses feeling like her strength, with every gentle barb that Zoisite dragged through her skin at his words, was being sucked away.

"No dear, on the issue of your marriage, your husband, the lovely little farce you've fooled yourself into, the backside of the mirror, whatever it is...you were simply in love with the concept of being IN love," Zoisite replied not taking any of Minako's words to heart as he shhuffled through his papers. "And that is the main reason why you and many others don't know what love is."

_"You're not hopeless," the miko speaks once again as she squeezes the Singer's slender fingers between hers. _

_It is then that the Singer stirs from her position and she cocks her head back to look at the miko in question, but instead the Singer is caught studying the miko's face, how strong her chin looks, and the broad shoulders, and fiery eyes showing two different emotions clashing together. She wonders how somebody's face could be so much like a mirror reflecting your own one true thought buried beneath the others, and how just the miko's gaze can make her tremble in revelation of her own strings, and then to have her thought thrown back at her shadowed in the miko's features well...that was just icing on the cake. Swallowing slightly the Singer attempts to answer with jovial humor, but she realizes that she shoud never try to joke around, not with the miko. _

_"You're right. I'm helpless actually, what fate has planned for me is set, and the only difference is how I get there, right?" _

_"That's not it either," the miko retorts troubled that the Singer could look at her intentions as insincere. _

_Seeing the look on the miko's face the Singer's humor drops, and she stops smiling at once, noticing that the miko is hurt. The miko has always wanted to be taken seriously around the Singer's presence, even when they were in junior high, and the Singer had teased the miko often relentlessly about it. The Singer is ashamed that she has taken the miko's words so casually to twist it around in ironic humor, especially when the miko has done nothing but try to be a friend to her, ever since her face had appeared around the city._

_"I'm sorry," the Singer apologizes. _

_"No," the miko refuses and adds, "I should be sorry, I shouldn't be meddling in your life, and telling you what to do with it." _

_"That has never stopped you before," the Singer smirks but immediately regrets it again as the miko glares at her. "Oh god...I'm sorry...it seems I never seem to know when to keep my mouth shut." _

_"You were going to go kill yourself for the wrong reasons.That's why I meddled because I wanted you to live," the miko replied icily as she straightens up from her position on the wall and faces the Singer. _

_"I know, and I'm sorry...I really am," the Singer apologizes quickly noticing that same fire burning again in the miko's eyes, a fire to prove herself, and everything she stood for. _

_Kami...the Singer wished she had the miko's strength. If not only to have the strength to stand by her own convictions, but the strength to tackle new things, like the miko was doing. The melancholy has been disturbed and like a stone cast into water, resolute on where it lands, only bound to make ripples. _


	5. Bloodwork

**Chapter 4: Bloodwork**

Cameras are clicking about Minako's head as she turns this way and that in her french maid costume with the duct tape around her ankles and toes swiveling around in a world of color. Everytime the camera lenses go off dancing lights are brought to life in her vision swirling, swirling, _gone_. Minako can count them if she keeps track, for every flash there are five and in turn all five sparkle and fade into the air, and all she sees is white as the bottle she is brandishing in her hand seems to crack beneath her grip.

"More cute! More cute!" the Director shouts at her from somewhere, anywhere, nowhere.

Minako tries to do as he wishes pouting at the blinding lights watching their faces hurtle by per second, per heart beat, per eyelash flutter. The pills in the bottle are rattling against her sweaty palm, but she keeps on spinning, she can't stop less she might fall. She is aware of the heat flaring across her cheeks, but she ignores that anyway, and she tries to count the lights to ignore the dizzying feel that she is spiraling into a world of color, static, and voices, but she is. She feels that she is falling and the lights are the only thing that are reminding her that she is awake.

_count the lights...breathe..._

_Rei_

_Usagi_

_Zoisite_

_Husband_

_Everyone_

_ReiUsagiZoisiteHusbandEveryoneReiUsagiZoisiteHusbandEveryoneReiUsagiZoisiteHusbandEveryoneReiUsagiZoisiteHusbandEveryoneReiUsagiZoisiteHusbandEveryoneReiUsagiZoisiteHusbandEveryoneReiUsagiZoisiteHusbandEveryone_

_Thud..._

That's all Minako can hear as her head hits the floor. She is swimming in a world of black, swimming, swimming, who knows where? Looking for something...a question, an answer...

------------------

_It's the time of the day that Minako doesn't like it...Nihhon is as hot as ever in the summer as Minako exits her limo already sweating, but the smile never strays off her face as she approaches the door to her place. There is a homely air around it, but she knows when she enters it all the inhabitants will be fast asleep lulled by their sea wave stereo speakers into silence. Better yet as she opens the door she is greeted by complete and utter darkness and now she has to grope, and imagine where the things are around her house, but it doesn't bother her that she doesn't remember what the hell is around her house any way. She can't remember where the kitchen was, or the trashcan, or the tv. For some reason she has ended up in the living room. She can feel the leather couch, the low table they had bought last summer, and the bamboo tree that has been festering in their living room for over two years already, but the thing that mosts dominates the living room is the tv. It's a surround sound dolby with a screen that spans a whole wall in the living room...Minako barely watches tv at all since she spends so much of her time in it, and her husband she knows only watches the infomercials, so why do they have a tv that is so huge that you'd need contacts to see straight after staring at it for awhile? The surround sound system...well that had come for free since Minako thought well if the tv screen cost so much then she might as well forge away on the sound system so whenever she turned it on she'd better be able to go deaf. She lingers on the tv, on what it is doing in her home, and passes by her eyes now accustomed to the darkness enough for her to not have to feel her way around anymore. _

_The tv has started to remind her where the things around her house are, and soon enough memory starts to kick in, and irritated she stares at the ventilation system above her head making that dreadful cranking noise. That noise has been with her since day one in the house, and it is the only noise that can be heard around the house at night, she wonders about it by day, but by day she is already out of the house. Minako ascends the stairs curiously and now she notices the bedroom...strange that it should be in the farthest corner of the hall when the guest bedrooms dominate the hall. _

_Minako enters cautiously and sighs softly when she hears slight sounds coming from the earphones her husband has on. Every night he is taken away to a place where the sea calls, and the wind can actually be heard over the music played in Nihhon, and he goes there without her. Minako opted to toss her headphones into the trashcan not wanting to be taken away so easily to a place too quiet to be real. She wonders how he can sleep like that, his body lying flat against the bed, his arms against his sides, and his legs slightly apart, but still straight, she wonders how uncomfortable he must be in that position every night. The sound of the sea is haunting in the starkly white room as Minako sits on the bed never taking her eyes off of his face, as even she can hear every time the waves seemed to crash against shore, and wonders...why they couldn't they buy a house near the beach where he could be with the waves everyday, and be happy, but instead they are looking for a place in Saitama. _

_"..." Minako can't remember his name..._

_But she knows if she calls him he won't answer because he's been taken away somewhere else where there was warm sand, instead of a cold bed, and warm sun, instead of a heating vent above him. She remembers the nights where she had woke up vivid in and out of dreams and how he didn't seem to hear her, and she would wake up alone and fearful, until she could finally recognize the four walls around her. Her home. Home. Doesn't feel like..._

_They have left so many things unsaid between them, and every time they don't agree on a subject they drop it, and dance around the subject never touching it again, just leaving it unfinished. He wants children, but she doesn't, and after the first time he had brought it up they've never talked about it ever again. He wants her to spend more time with him and his family, but she can't, she is constantly reminded that she has a career, his parents never call the house anymore when she is around. _

_The chill of the night air is dawning upon her skin as she realizes that it is late, and that she must return to her bed for at least a few hours of sleep, and she takes another passing glance at him, and goes to the opposite twin bed, and lays there...count Minako, count..._

_12345123451234512345_

The miko stood there staring at the round crystalline object, hesitant as if she could feel the one glaring eye stare through it at her, studying her face and expression. She had been called here anonymously by a man concerning Minako's health and if it was anything she would have brushed it off saying that the Singer's business was her business. Rei is not the type to meddle in something she got burned by sticking her hand in no matter how long ago it was, but here the miko stands nervous and licking her lips, her face looking younger than it ever did in this one moment of uncertainty and anticipation. The white door that holds everything in, all the pieces in place is literally ripped away to reveal the man that had fought against her in her Senshi day, a man that was the anti-thesis of all she sought to protect and love was here standing in the doorway as thus to welcome her into a starch white hotel room for what?

"Minako..." the name is spoken softly and tested on the white-haired antagonists' tongue and he smiles slightly at the stunned miko who is feverishly and frantically trying to get her act together. "Doesn't know you're here, and besides she's sleeping, but I don't want you to miss the oppurtunity of wishing her well, come in."

"I..." the miko breathes her own ribcage felt like it was crushing her chest in fear and deep-rooted anger. "don't think that's necessary, I'll come back later."

Zoisite won't let the miko go this easily not when she is awaiting at the door to greet the Singer. He won't let go of his _prey_ so easily.

"No. You should come in less you spoil all the surprise in getting you here, Minako would be pleased," Zoisite eggs the miko on dangling Minako's name in front of the miko's nose like bait.

She takes it. The miko enters cautiously, she has seen Zoisite on the news and knows that Zoiste and Minako have repaired their misshapen kinship, but the miko did not know that she would ever have to look at his face again. Especially after all these years. Rei refuses the tea offered her opting to sit on the couch furthest away from Zoisite's gaze.

Zoisite notices the tensing of Rei's figure. It can't be helped he thinks to himself that the miko would not want to so easily place her trust in him, he did after all in the past try to kill them, especially now that the miko has something to hide from. Zoicite can't help but try to indulge himself in this reckless carving of wills, it is simply bloodwork to him to push people past limits and inhibitions, and he wants to see how far he can push and unravel the miko. She is like a sweater neatly knitted and arranged, and he is curious, poking and tracing. He is delighted to try and find that one loose thread... that one idle string to grasp and pull. It is in his nature as such to be imposing, to be malevolent, to carry out his good intentions in a manner that provokes anger even from the side he is siding on.

"Why is Minako sick?" the miko asks rigidly her eyes fixed hard on the closed door so carefully closeted by shadow.

"Everyone gets sick. You forget that now you are just as ordinary as people," Zoisite replied testing the water. "Minako was sick when she was a Senshi also, or don't you remember?"

At the mention of Minako ill Rei tenses yet again, but chooses to fake a mood of aloofness to try to throw this clever Pianist off his track, but Rei can't hide the sudden flashing of rage in her eyes. She can't help but direct all her energies on this man standing in the middle of Minako's hotel room who is contradicting her own struggle, his very presence is stifling out her purpose, the very breath he breathes meant to clash against her own way of life. He has a life of luxury, she has a life waiting on hand and foot for people, for politics, for results.

"I do," she grits her teeth, and replies every word that exits her mouth is forced out, pulled out like a magician making a rabbit appear from his hat.

"It's funny the way we fight against fate, and how fate and destiny just pulls us closer together, the more we struggle the more tangled we get," Zoisite presses further and deeper into the crevasse of weakness that he saw in the miko, into the wound that had not healed, the itch that never went away.

Rei sits her face seem to be set in stone as no motion comes from her lips or graces her body as she watches out of the corner of eye Zoisite, regarding him warily, but neither making a dive for Zoisite's taunts.

"What am I saying, but the mere push of oblivion, when people sit waiting for a revolution in front of the square boxes that sap away all the fruit and joys of their life? Every history that is embedded in pages and pages of books and novels. We are living in a world of peculiar people, all the same souls, phoenixes, but what we do have is memory. The memory of mistake, and yet we seem to be repeating it over and over again, we bury war, and then by pure curiosity dig it up again. We bury the ashes of love, the beginning of star-struck infatuation into the bowels of our chests, but by _chance_, chance nothing more than irony at some point in our lives resurrect the spark, the _crush_ that was deemed to die in shadow and dark now brought to light!" Zoisite attacks Rei his own passion and opinions terminating all thought from his mind, and he speaks himself to Rei, shows himself, and his soul bares its teeth.

"You speak of nothing! Talk, is that all you can do? Say?" Rei retorts her face a mask of revulsion and disgust her body tense and ready to run at any moment, but her legs remain stiff like blocks of wood, and she is faced with a very much impassioned pianist to deal with.

Rei can feel the guilt weighing in on her on silver scales, and she can feel his eyes boring their way into her frame, and she can't help but believe all those statements were directed at her. The miko's bones feel as weak as jelly, her mind as bendable as plastic, cold as fire, and hot as ice. The most bendable of steel, the lightest of darks, weightless calamity, it all horded into the miko's mind forcing rationality to jump ship.

"I don't know---," the miko starts, but is cut off by Zoisite who won't give her a chance to speak, to retreat.

"_Love moderately true love doth so_….Shakespeare, you've probably heard of him."

The miko is washed away in flames that seem to lick places that are so hard to reach in little niches of her own mind, and the wave is crashing up against her, wave after wave, and ebb after ebb the string unwinds. She tries to pile new things on top of herself, goes to new places every month, she has never settled down in over years, she has been to the most remote, and most accessible places in the world, but she can't ever hide the old face that craved and thirsted for the old fire, the flame that was literally alive that she could feel burning beneath her fingertips, the kami that she beseeched to in the flame's flicker, but she can't run and go to her safety anymore.

"But what are you afraid of?" Zoisite goads the miko, he taunts her, and pulls more unraveling until he finishes. "Afraid that what you find when you take the first dive into deep water, afraid that what you find may not be warm, but icy and cold... enough to gnaw away flesh and bone, seperate veins from arteries, and that is when your heart shall beat no longer to the rhythm of her breaths, to the slight...flutter of her eyelash. Afraid that what you find may be not what you expected... a love that falls apart, sex that doesn't feel quite right, the breaking of tender flesh underneath the constant pressure of white teeth, and all alone we stand contradicted by our own laws, alienated by none other than ourselves."

"I'm not afraid," the miko challenges grasping in the dark for her own strength and conviction to make her words sound strong, brief but adamant, her words have lost the luster of passion, and her own presence now dulled by the foray of his words.

"I'm _not _afraid..."

Her whisper is like a wind-chime in the approaching dark of the last hours of afternoon, the last ray of sun is splintering through Victorian curtains, and she sees the slivers of daylight escape quickly from the etchy sky replaced by charcoal, by night. Zoisite has said many things, but his own message is cryptic buried beneath comparisons and prose, she wonders if that's how he composes his music in the same aggressive manner. The same cold efficiency of one on his prey until he gets it right, that one note that he has reached for until he composes his masterpiece, until she can't quite hold together underneath his play of words.

The tide is coming in on her, her reality is still set in stone, she just needs to answer his question. She has a problem she needs to face, this is not the time where lovers should play romantic games, and where the kami above should laugh at lovers' lies, but still her visage is in place as she murmurs against the rising in the room.

I'm not afraid."


End file.
